New Start
by MandolinDoodler
Summary: Never once in his life had he planned on leaving the North Pole, his family, and his entire life behind yet here he was watching them get smaller and smaller on the horizon in a truck taking him to who-knows-where. [An 'Arthur leaves' AU, One-shot for now]


**I'm surprised no one has really done a fic like this yet where Arthur leaves part way through the movie. Maybe this will inspire you guys! I don't own Arthur Christmas.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Arthur watched as his slipper was swallowed by the ocean waves. It was supposed to be simple: take the sleigh and deliver the present so Gwen could have a perfect Christmas and the Claus's could sleep easy, again. Now him, Grand-santa, and Bryony were stuck in the desert no doubt waiting for Steve to track them down and reprimand them all the way back to the North Pole. The youngest Claus could only hope his brother would at least deliver the present before searching for them.<p>

"Can I burn this?"

Arthur glanced over to Bryony holding Gwen's letter. For a moment he almost gave her permission to rid them of the parchment that started their problems in the first place, but there was a part deep in his heart that refused to so blatantly admit defeat. Just because the Santas of the family had stopped caring about children didn't mean Arthur had to as well. The young man trudged over to the wrapping elf and gently removed the letter from her small hand, staring at the sloppy writing and misspelled words. After a few moments, he looked down at Bryony with sorrowful eyes.

Elves were known for their devotion to Christmas, more so than the Claus family sometimes. To see an elf, especially one as passionate as Bryony, look as hopeless as Arthur felt nearly broke the young man. He clenched the purple letter tighter in his hand, making up his mind. Maybe he couldn't deliver Gwen's present, but it was Christmas and, though his grandfather had let him down, he at least deserved a better place to rest and wait for Steve -they all did.

With a determined gaze, Arthur scanned the horizon praying for any sort of sign of life. Luckily, not far from where they were camped out lay a cluster of lights, possibly a seaside town.

"Come on, there's a town down that way," he said, pointing towards the light, "we can get some food and maybe some rest while we wait for Steve." Without waiting for a reply, Arthur began the trek along the shore, glancing back only to make sure Grand-santa and Bryony were keeping up with him. Though they stumbled along the way, the elder Claus and elf didn't dare complain; Arthur was breaking as it was and neither wanted to get on the young man's bad side.

Ten minutes later, the trio finally entered the small city. Even with the morning sun barely touching the sandy streets and Christmas day blooming in every home, the people were buzzing outside, filling the town square with life. A group of women rushed by with baskets of clothes, vendors set up their stands to get some sales in for the morning, children dashed through the crowds enjoying their new trinkets.

Arthur stared wide eyed at the busyness of the streets. He'd spent the last twenty years in the North Pole and seen the hectic world of elves during the cram session right before Christmas eve. Never before had he dared to venture into the middle of them when their minds were so focused and the halls so crowded, but being in the middle of that small city, the young Claus felt he knew what it would be like.

And even though he felt unusually small despite being taller than many of the citizens, and he had to dodge a running child or hurried townsman every two seconds (and even though his evening/morning had been beyond crappy), a smile still managed to creep its way onto Arthur's face. It was just so exciting when he didn't have to worry about being spotted by the authorities or shot at for stealing a sign. If it weren't for his responsibilities at the Pole, he'd let himself get swept away by the crowd.

But, wait, Arthur thought as the smile slipped from his face, it isn't as if he was _needed_ at the North Pole. Yes, children all deserved to have their letters answered, but -at the risk of sounding like Grand-santa- that's elf work. Maybe it would be a big deal if he was Santa, but Arthur was the equivalent of an elf; it would be nothing to replace him if he just disappeared.

A tug on his jacket brought the youngest Claus out of his thoughts. "C'mon, lad, let's get out of this crowd. Me hips can't take this much longer." Grand-Santa looked up at his grandson and, when he received a small nod, turned towards a nearby building with some crates stacked against it. Right behind him Bryony followed closely, cautious of getting trampled with her small size and constantly glancing around to make sure there were no suspicions of the group's mythical background.

Arthur followed at their slow pace, his mind bouncing back to his earlier thoughts. It's wasn't like he could simply jump on a plane and be off. He didn't have money in general, let alone the right currency for where ever he was. And simply walking off wasn't an option either; he wouldn't get far enough away to escape Steve's radar or even Bryony's running distance.

But what was he doing even considering all of these options? It's not like he would actually do it. The young Claus had a life in the North Pole, a simple life and one where he wasn't very appreciated, but a life all the same. Yeah, thoughts like that weren't helping him at all…

Right then, a man carrying a crate bumped into Arthur, making the young man nearly lose sight of his grandfather and elf. The man with the crate mumbled an apology before setting his load onto the back of a truck.

"That's the last one," he called to the driver. Wiping his hands onto his pants, the man got into the passenger side of the vehicle. Arthur watched as the truck growled to life, tempting him with the idea of driving all day to some unknown town or city up the coast. It would be too easy to jump into the back of the truck and crawl between some of the loosely packed crates. No one would even know he was there and he could get out at the next town without a trace.

Arthur stood in the middle of the street now staring at his grandfather and elf as they took a seat on the crates by the nearby building. Grand-santa shifted, trying to get comfortable on the hard surface, and Bryony kept her suspicious gaze on the crowd while she swiftly hoisted herself next to Grand-santa. They hadn't even noticed Arthur was gone, yet.

So Arthur watched them some more. He watched as they sat there a few moments, Grand-santa grumbling to himself and Bryony easily tuning him out. He watched as Bryony looked past the old Santa to see an empty spot, her eyes widening in near terror. He watched as the two grew frantic when they couldn't find him in the crowd, Grand-santa going from irritated to ready for a heart attack.

And he watched as their faces became smaller, getting lost as more and more people were put between him and his family. The youngest Claus hadn't even realized he'd boarded the truck currently hauling him to some unknown town miles away until he lost sight of his partners.

For a split second, Arthur panicked because he'd just left his century-old grandfather and spiritless elf in the middle of some strange city with no way to contact Steve or pay for anything like food or sleeping quarters. The shock almost had him scrambling out of the bed of the vehicle and bolting to his family's side, spilling apologies for disappearing. Almost. His feet refused to budge until the initial panic settled.

When the tension in his body finally released, Arthur slowly readjusted himself in the pile of crates to get comfortable. He couldn't see Grand-santa and Bryony anymore, their faces and voices having long disappeared in the city bustle. The young man knew he should be worrying as he always did, but that little part of him that constricted his lungs and put his mind on a single track was strangely calm. Some part of him very, very deep down honestly wanted to leave, to have a chance at a life where he was wanted and see the places he'd only seen stamps of.

At terms with that idea, Arthur solemnly turned to watch the passing buildings become blurs until they melted into sandy scenery. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the desert, though, he couldn't ignore the clenching in his heart reminding him that he might never see his family again.

* * *

><p><strong>I wrote this awhile ago with a plan to make a full story out of it, but I haven't been able to get past the first chapter and I haven't been able to settle on one way for the story to go (not that I couldn't just write both). I might find a way to make this into a two-shot where you find out what happened to Arthur after several years being away or I'll just leave it be -depends on my motivation.<strong>


End file.
